Beige Paint

Sometimes Lex wishes she had just killed herself back then, when she was screaming inside and her boyfriend watched her cry with a weary eye and aloof measure. Every decision meant so much in those days. Now she doesn’t care enough to die or to live. Stalemate. She wants to feel more but she avoids everything that might make her feel. She’s locked her self away in a compartment where she denies it freedom or devotion, the things that were denied her. She doesn’t feel the need to be loved anymore, why should she? She can’t imagine anybody ever seeing the beauty or the despair inside her. It’s been ran down.

left behind gone away to sleep not for lack of trying cliches raining down on her head why cant it be apples this time and why apples why can’t i work through my issues why pizza and why Alex and why anything why choose anything why can’t i just stay here not choosing denying myself life in a much more subtle way a punishment for what, i don’t know exactly, it does feel like some kind of punishment though but i dont even feel i have the power to punish myself, i feel powerless, but i never cared about power, i was a good girl, until good became bad, or overrated, but nobody beat me to bed if that’s what you’re asking, i maybe didn’t get heard enough but the poet says my place is like something out of a russian novel and why am i so afraid that i act like the strong one to even my weakest friends who arent judging of anything they arent in the place to be and i am so withheld i cant show them anything except daily loss and before when i tried it was a win i thought it had to do with concentration but now i see i cared i cared for things i dont seem to know when i am or am not in trouble i am just writing to try to fix something if anything can be fixed maybe i dont believe problems can be fixed they can only be entered and documented maybe i am so used to having things taken from me i am holding onto all material things junk or not and clutter or not and as for memories, i am holding on so tight to them i think my brain will blow…………… and i want to share all of this with whoever i feel is closest in my orbit, right now it’s clearly a guy I’ve dated and been friends with for ten years, but even him I can’t seem to let him see me emotionally nude.. but other people I’ve let, people who were judgmental, what do i have to lose with him, and i seem to be unable to relate to people around me, but people who are unreachable or who ended up being in there for their own gain maybe, or at least their motives were SO MURKY. i can accept that now and i seem to be able to grasp them or maybe it’s all circumstance i think im good at accepting the things i cannot change but i cant seem to accept the things i can change, im so used to everything being out of my reach, i dont know how to reach for anything anymore, and i feel ive lost even my tools of trade which had do with my self, and my self doesnt seem to have a place to exist without my art, and that’s sad maybe or is it not, but i used to feel if i was a waste than i needed to do the world a favor and off myself but then that changed somehow maybe because i sensed i shouldnt kill myself that it isnt something people do.. but then things stopped moving forward i stopped changing the things i needed to change and then guilt was packed on and the guilt overrides actual emotion and just became a blurry set of focals that are set to the wrong channel or prescription. The only thing I can do right is maybe understand other people but i have no degree in psychology so what good is that.

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This entry was posted in contagious emptiness, I didn't want to care anymore, So Numb.. ZOMBIE GIRL. Bookmark the permalink.

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